KINDLE
by DauntlessFlame
Summary: Larkfeather was never supposed to die. It wasn't her true fate— she had a prophecy laid before her with a life-changing fate yet to be resolved. So when she winds up dead by her brother's claws, StarClan knows they must quickly defeat the Dark Forest. Time is fading— as are their saviors.
1. Recovery

**KINDLE**

҉

I instantly knew something wasn't right.

* * *

My brother hadn't been his normal self lately, especially not then. There'd been dark aspect of his voice, his tone icy and his words sharp. He had claimed something of walking with the shadows. He'd said I was very _unhealthy_ for the Clan's wellbeing. He had called me despicable and scheming. He'd whispered in his unusual cold manner that I deserved to die. Of course, he'd said this was for the _better_ of ThunderClan.

'_You have been destined for evil_,' he had told me, his claws digging in to the earth. His cold green eyes had looked at me with such utter hatred, I'd felt I would die just by his mere gaze. But it wasn't his words or his stare that'd killed me.

* * *

"Sweet Larkfeather, we're so sorry!"

Owlfire couldn't get over to me fast enough. Her soothing tongue was immediately on my scars, the wounds healing more rapidly under her touch. I looked down at my shimmering new pelt, all the age and tire drawn away from my body. Energy streamed through my veins, my recovery coming along rather fast. Even when my scars had faded, Owlfire continued grooming my fur. Such a loving mother she was, but I backed away from her like a kit, still disliking when she sleeked down my fur.

"My dear Larkfeather, you've grown much since I've seen you last," Owlfire purred, her body trembling with love. "It is my apologies that we had to meet again this early."

She beckoned with her tail for me, so I followed. The light brown of her fur kept me on trail as I suddenly became overwhelmed by the mesh of scents. _So this is my new scent_. There was the strong smell of ThunderClan, unevenly blended with the others. StarClan itself had a scent of its own—one so indistinct that I had trouble deciphering it from the rest. It was _cold—_if there was such a way to describe it. The scent was cold and sharp, getting so strong that I almost gagged as we walked on.

Also as we pressed on, my nose picked up traces of ShadowClan, the fur on my neck rising despite the fact I was dead and there were no boundaries.

"What are we doing here?" I murmured, wriggling my nose at the powerful smell of ShadowClan. "Is this—is this _ShadowClan _territory?"

Owlfire glanced back, the spark in her gaze disappeared. "Hush, my little one. We must pass by Poppystar's remains. They are rather protective of their hearts and don't welcome others often. Those of her deceased generation still gather at Poppystar's call, like a Clan of their own."

I twitched my whiskers. "I thought there weren't any specific territories in StarClan."

"There aren't, but it's none of our business why Poppystar holds her remains together," Owlfire meowed sharply, her amber eyes narrowed. "We must move on, my Larkfeather."

Though I still questioned Owlfire, I crept along through the forest just a step behind her. Things were so strange in StarClan—there was no shallow sound of breathing as we walked. If no one spoke or moved for a moment, there would be the purest of all silence. That would never happen, but it was possible.

Another strange thing was the animal afterlife. There were no foxes or badgers or any harmful creatures, Owlfire assured me. They had all gone to their heavens in the night sky. Prey was bountiful, sweet birdsong ringing in my ears and the sound of death's life loud and clear.

What surprised me is that we didn't stumble across any other cat. I found it odd that I hadn't met anyone else again other than Owlfire. Surely I was to meet with Creekstar, the leader of ThunderClan who reigned before Scarheart. Creekstar was the one I had first expected to meet, having been my mentor and a good friend.

The StarClan-scent was overwhelming as we emerged into a starlit cavern, many figures appearing around a silver pool. Whispers of unfamiliar voices tugged at my ears, but I couldn't catch what they were saying. I held my un-breath, the smell making my nose hurt.

"Come now, my dear Larkfeather," Owlfire muttered, glancing back at me with a hopeful look in her eyes. "Because you are here early, I will show you this."

The figures backed away from the silver pool, their faces and scents unidentifiable. "What are they?" I asked, a shiver running down my spine. The whispers continued with words inaudible. My hearing was fine but it was the softness that I couldn't pick up.

Owlfire dipped her head respectively toward the figures. "They are Forgotten, Larkfeather. When a StarClan member dies, their soul joins the countless Forgotten. It is they who tell all. They show us by the Everpool." She approached the silver pool, beckoning for me to follow.

It glimmered brightly, the luminous almost blinding. The cavern seemed as if all would be dark inside but within the Everpool shone with all the glow of the sun. I squinted, trying to find a place to rest my eyes. A small shadow crept along the cavern's entrance and it is there I stared.

My mother drew my gaze from the shadow to the starry pool as her tail-tip flicked the surface. An image of me appeared from the ripples. There I was, staring into the Everpool just as I was doing now. I lifted a paw and watched as the image of me did the same. I gasped, letting Owlfire's purr drag my eyes from the silver pool to her. "W-Why am I shown?"

"Sweet Larkfeather, I've so much to tell you," Owlfire meowed, her amber eyes glinting by the starlight. She sighed, dropping her gaze from mine. "I will not overwhelm you on your death day. But as you should know, you are destined for great things." The light brown she-cat led me out of the cavern, the image of me already melted into the silver pool.


	2. War

Mudpaw had died the most un-violent death of them all. Killed off by nothing more than a sickening cough, many wondered why he'd ever ended up in such a place as the Dark Forest. Those who don't know his past often scorned him because it was greencough that had claimed his life. He wasn't feared, despite his gruesome past no one cared to learn, because he was only an apprentice. Senior warriors or former deputies earned the respect of the evildoers, while he was looked upon as an outcast.

As Mudpaw began to get older than some of those who joined his ranks in the starless abyss, he took the name Mudfang, a name his colleagues had given him because he fought so well. The warrior refused to bow down to the newer evildoers whom of which believe they can use seniority and size against him. It was always _war, war, war_ within the borders of the shadows.

"It's time you took on a trainee, Mudfang," a large gray tabby tom reported, his voice surprising the warrior.

He turned to face the tom, a cold look in his gaze. "Where's _your_ trainee Littlepaw, Willowscar?" he snarled, making his companion flinch. "Where's she this fine evening? Tell me, Willowscar."

Willowscar's claws unsheathed as he took a step toward Mudfang. "She joined StarClan," the gray tabby hissed. "She was killed by greencough." The large gray tabby flexed his claws in the soft ground.

"Who else died of greencough?" he growled, chide in his voice. "Who _else_ died of greencough?"

"You did," Willowscar meowed quietly, looking at his paws. "And you are one of the greatest warriors of the Dark Forest." He narrowed his eyes, rising to meet Mudfang's gaze. "I think I know just the one for you to train. She's strong-willed, like you."

_She?_ Mudfang thought, his mind going back to his old lover, a charming she-cat by the name of Poppypaw. Their romance had been cut short, due to his sudden death in the midst of leafbare. That winter had also taken many others' lives, but they'd gone to StarClan. Mudfang never knew what became of Poppypaw, though he assumed she also went to StarClan. She'd caught the sickness last he'd seen—but that seemed like countless lives ago. No such love could ever touch his heart again.

Willowscar parted his jaws, drawing in the scents. "In fact, I think she's here now," he meowed, turning toward the trees. "I'll fetch her for you."

Mudfang sighed, sitting down and whisking his tail around to his paws. "She'd better be quick on her paws," he whispered, knowing Willowscar could very well be lying behind those undecipherable amber eyes.

Mudfang scented her before he saw her—a great ShadowClan tang was on his tongue, the familiar smell of his former Clan welcome to his senses. Her scent was mangled with that of a strong-scented flower. _She'd better be strong_, already despising the fact he'd have to train a she-cat. Weren't there any young toms talented enough to be trained by his great skill?

The she-cat's crystal blue eyes narrowed as she saw him. Her fur was that of the darkest gray. She was lithe, a petite little she-cat. "Where were you?" she asked, her voice light and jumpy.

"What is this, Willowscar? Some kit you dragged in from the Twolegplace?" Mudfang snarled, avoiding the she-cat's eyes.

A humorous glint lit Willowscar's eyes as the little she-cat unsheathed her claws. "Oh, not much: just some ShadowClan stench with fluff for claws." The large gray tabby drew his lip in a curl, watching the she-cat intently.

The she-cat lunged at Mudfang, not in the least taking him by surprise. He snarled, dodging her petty blows with great ease. In frustration, she clawed the earth. "I'm a warrior," she spat. "You shouldn't be so difficult if you are too."

Mudfang flinched when she used '_warrior'. _It still touched deep in him that he'd died an apprentice. Before he could stop himself, his paw swiped across and swatted the she-cat's nose, leaving a splatter of blood. "You are pathetic," he hissed. "Go home to the nursery, where kits like you belong." He turned to Willowscar. "As for you—I told you: I don't need a trainee."

"Mudfang, you didn't give her a proper chance!" Willowscar insisted, though his amber eyes were unreadable. "She's a little out of whack. She's been in the medicine cat's den lately, recovering from wounds from the recent battle with ThunderClan."

The she-cat let out a hiss. "I didn't come here to show off my skill! Mossywhisker was getting old when he trained me. He's retired now. I swear, had I had Jayflight for a mentor, I'd have more moves." She paused, looking directly into Mudfang's cold stare. "I came here to learn," she whispered. "I came here to train among the best."

҉

"How did your session go?" Willowscar asked, his tail high as he padded over to him. "Did Creekfire learn anything useful?"

Mudfang turned away from the warrior, his mind far from that night. "_Greencough_," he hissed. "It was _greencough_ that killed me!" The dark tabby dug his claws in the lifeless ground. "Maybe Cinderblaze was right—StarClan took my life because they could. They _knew_ where I spent my nights. They _knew._" It was more than that they knew. They knew his past—they knew what he'd done.

"How could they know such a thing?" Willowscar muttered. "It's not like they have eyes and ears in the Dark Forest."

"Eyes and ears," Mudfang repeated. "That's what we need over there. We need to know what their plans are—what's happening and when." He turned to Willowscar. "I'm not sure we can trust Cinderblaze on telling the truth."

It was always _war, war, war, _within the shadowed borders. Cinderblaze held strong as a key leader of the Dark Forest, having arrived not long before Mudfang. Though all of the Dark Forest fought StarClan on the same terms, they split within themselves. It was claw against claw, held together by a mere thread.

"Who do you trust more than yourself? You should do it," Willowscar agreed, nodding. "I can handle Creekfire for a while. Maybe I can teach her some decency before you overwhelm her with pure skill."

Mudfang flicked his tail-tip. "In such a place as this starless one, I shall not ask of you to train Creekfire. You are strongly loyal, Willowscar, but I assure you that only I must teach the pathetic little warrior. I couldn't stand it if she had the same mindset that you have. She must learn firsthand what it is to feel pain."


End file.
